Chapter 11: 'Leave me alone'
Molly made sure to wrap a scarf around her neck before leaving the building; the weather outside was distinctly wintry, and a biting cold wind swept falling snow flakes around. After seeing the trainer and having some stitches administered for the gash on her head, she decided to head back to her hotel room, in order to take a steamy bath to unwind.
She wasn't keen on waiting around until the conclusion of Hunter's title match; she didn't want to face them until the next night, to give herself a chance to arrange her thoughts accordingly.
Her discussion with Mr. McMahon had opened her eyes to the way she had changed over the past few weeks, since hooking up with Evolution.
"...I think we have found the female equivalent of Triple H."
It was a flattering gesture in some respects, but Molly wasn't positive that she wanted to be a female equivalent of The Game. She knew enough about his past to know how despised he was by his peers and the fans, how mentally unstable he could be and how low he could stoop. Molly didn't want to become that, though it appeared that the metamorphosis had already shifted into overdrive.
As she made her way into the foyer of the arena, she was interrupted by an unwelcome presence; Todd Grisham accompanied by a cameraman.
"Molly, do you have a second for an interview?" he asked, scurrying over to her with a microphone in his hand. Molly rolled her eyes at the thought of having to conduct an interview, with the frame of mind she was in.
"No I don't. If you'll excuse me." she returned bluntly. Todd was undeterred by her refusal, keen to get the scoop on the motive behind her attack on Victoria.
"Can you explain the reasoning for attacking Victoria the way you did?"
Molly refused to comment, but that only prompted him to try harder to elicit a response.
"The preliminary reports from the doctors suggest that Victoria's knee has been severely injured and she is likely to be out of action for a long time. Don't you have anything to say about that?"
Molly cast a look of hatred in his direction, for having the nerve to annoy her and waste her time. She considered two options; she could use her fists, or use her mouth. It became an easy choice after the little pep-talk she'd had with Mr. McMahon. She darted in the direction of Grisham, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin.
"Let me make this clear for you," she began calmly, "I have nothing to say... to you." placing extra emphasis on the last part.
"But..."
"Get out of my face Grisham!" she spat irritably, ending the 'interview' there and then. She stormed out of the revolving doors at the entrance, into the night.
"I don't think she is happy." The dippy young interviewer pointed out to the cameraman, simply stating the obvious.
Molly adjusted her scarf, to try and keep as much of the chill out as possible. The freezing cold wind bit into her face, aggravating the stitches in her forehead. She rubbed her gloved hands together, as the mitts weren't helping much in the arctic conditions. It was just as well that the hotel for the event was just across the way from the arena, because she had not had time to hire a rental in advance; and she didn't fancy waiting for a cab to come by.
She trudged through the soft snow lining the ground, which made a sound she found extreme comfort in. It brought back memories of her playing in the snow as a child, a far cry from her existence now. As she daydreamed, she heard a voice calling out her name.
"Molly! Molly!"
She didn't recognize the adolescent male approaching her, the only conclusion she could draw was that it must have been a fan. That didn't make much sense seeing as the event was still in progress; there didn't appear to be any other fans on the relatively deserted streets lining the arena.
"Molly! Great match! I'm a huge fan of yours!" the fan enthused. He almost bumped into Molly as he sought to speak with his idol. He wasn't to know he'd picked a bad time.
"Uh, right." Molly said, the adulation sweeping right over her head with another sub-zero blast of wind.
"Would you sign my programme for me?" he asked, holding it out for Molly to autograph. Molly took a fleeting look at her gloved hands and didn't really want to have to take them off.
"Not right now." she said coldly.
"Oh. I came from out of state to see this, I only want an autograph... Please?" he begged. Molly experienced the same feeling she'd felt in the arena when Grisham was bothering her; a sensation she could find no way of harnessing.
"Just get away from me, you creep!"
She left the fan totally crushed in her wake, marching away from him. She had gotten no further than ten paces away from him, when she realized how heartless and crass she'd been. It wasn't his fault she was in such a bad mood and there was no need to act so disgracefully, especially as he only wanted an autograph.
'Is it any wonder I haven't got any fans?' she brooded, turning to try and reconcile with the guy she'd just devastated. She was about to open her mouth, when she saw that he'd dashed away.
"Making friends again I see."
Randy Orton had witnessed the man running off and presented his sarcastic spin on it. Molly would normally have snapped, but all she could manage in this instance was tears. Randy quickly noticed her sorrow and motioned towards her to offer some comfort.
"Hey Molly, what's the matter?" he asked, carefully placing his hand on her left shoulder. With his free hand, he tipped Molly's chin so he could see the look in her eyes. Her forlorn expression told him all he needed to be told, he had some work to do.
"Listen, we're gonna catch our death stood out here. Let's get you back to the hotel and we can try to sort this out." Randy assured her, showing maturity beyond his years. Molly managed the semblance of a smile, grateful for his gesture.
Randy pulled Molly in towards him, embracing her to protect her from the elements. She snuggled in, making the most of the warmth on offer, as they made their way across the street. It was not an ideal scenario for her, but in the circumstances she couldn't complain.
Once inside the lobby of the hotel, they brushed themselves down to remove the snow that had collected on their garments.
"Do you fancy a coffee?" Randy asked, pointing to the cafeteria further down the hallway.
"Sounds like a good idea." She replied, feeling the heat slowly return to her body parts. She also started to feel the effects of her grueling match earlier that night, as the effects of adrenaline began to wear off. Her limbs felt heavy and several parts of her anatomy ached dull pains. She resolved to make this drink a quick one, so she could jump into a nice soothing bath in her room.
The cafeteria was deserted, as Molly found a table to sit at. Randy insisted on going over to order the drinks, leaving Molly to slump into one of the plush couches in the room. She was let down by the fact it didn't feel overly comfortable, thanks to her physical status.
She watched Randy intently as he chatted with the girl behind the counter, who was serving him. She noticed that he seemed to have no problem charming the young blonde, who laughed at a couple of his quips. Molly grimaced, not keen on the way he was effectively seducing her. She wasn't jealous, at least she thought not. She didn't particularly want to spend too long around Randy, he seemed like a nice enough kid, but his ego was a large blot on his copy book.
Randy returned with two steaming hot cups of coffee and a big smile on his face. Molly didn't believe he was that pleased to see her, so it must have been something the waitress had said to him.
"What can you do, when they throw themselves at you like that one, hey?"
Molly sighed, and looked at the coffee Randy placed on the table in front of her. She noticed it was quite dark and didn't appear to have any milk in it.
"Thanks for asking how I like my coffee Randy." she said gloomily. Randy didn't seem to pick up that she was bemoaning the fact she'd have preferred some milk in her drink.
"That's okay, any time."
Molly let it go, taking a sip from her mug. It tasted utterly revolting to her, encapsulating her evening in a nutshell. 'I give up.' she concluded.
"You were awesome out there tonight, if you don't mind me saying." Randy praised her, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Thanks, I guess. I'd rather not talk about it though." Molly replied.
"Why not?"
"I just don't, okay?" Molly said in a stern manner. Randy lounged back in his seat and held up his hands, he didn't want to antagonize her. A moment of silence left the room a deathly hush, until Randy found something worth asking.
"Is there anything you do want to talk about?"
"No, not really..." Molly began, before hitting on something she'd mulled over whilst in hospital, "Actually, come to think of it..."
"Go on." Randy urged, all ears in anticipation.
"You. What's the story?" she asked, a question Randy clearly didn't comprehend. He shot her a perplexed gaze, seeking further reasoning.
"I've noticed Randy. Nobody else might have, but I've noticed the score with you."
Randy had no idea what Molly was getting at, he wasn't under the impression he was hiding anything from anyone.
"You've hardly said a word to me since I joined the group. Nobody noticed how cold you were towards me, ignoring me and avoiding me at every turn. You see I'm not like Hunter, or Ric, or Dave... I can see these things."
Molly gingerly sat up in her seat and leaned over the table, gripping Randy's eyes with her own.
"You're up to something Orton, I know it and you know it... I don't know what it is, but I am going to find out." she told him in no uncertain terms. Without further ado she upped and walked away, leaving him no chance to respond.
Randy just sat motionless in his seat, trying to make head or tail of what had just transpired. His intentions were honourable, but he got the impression that Molly believed he was after something else. The truth was that he wanted to get to know her better, he wasn't up to anything. His view of the situation was that they had something in common; something he could help her with.